


Make Me Real

by anonymouswriter7



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Internalized Homophobia, Jaebeom has depression, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Romance, Slow Burn, but he doesn't wanna accept it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29597349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymouswriter7/pseuds/anonymouswriter7
Summary: The one in which Jaebeom loves a little too much and hates himself just as much for it.
Relationships: Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Alone

Jaebeom was alone.

It was 3 AM, and Jaebeom was completely and utterly alone. Now, normally, this wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary. Jaebeom lived alone and was single as all hell, so he tended to spend the early hours of the morning asleep in his bed, very much alone. But he really didn't mind it because he didn't  _ feel _ alone. Generally speaking, Jaebeom was happy. He liked his small apartment, he liked his cat, he liked his friends, he liked college, and he liked LA. His heart was full already. He didn't need a lover or a roommate to make him feel complete, right? So being alone at 3 AM really didn't ever bother Jaebeom. The only reason it bothered him this time was because he wasn't in his bed. He wasn't even in his apartment. Somehow, Jaebeom had ended up in a city park, directly in the center of a field. He wasn’t too fond of his surroundings. He was used to the park being animated and full of life. But now all that was left was the slight echo of the memories he had made there. Jaebeom stared blankly into the night sky and wondered why. Why was he standing alone in a field with nothing but the moon and a couple of pitifully dim street lights to fend off the darkness that seemed to be creeping closer every second? Not even Jaebeom knew; not really. But there he stood, full of raw emotions he wanted so badly to throw away. He took a deep breath, letting the cool night air stream through his lungs. He thought maybe it would clear the fog in his mind. When his deep breath was through, he was disappointed to find it still clouding his thoughts.

"Shit," he mumbled. "It never does leave easily, does it?"

The street light closest to him flickered. He shot it a glare without thinking. Those stupid yellow lights. They were eyesores. Why couldn't they have been LEDs? Or better yet, why couldn't they have just not been there at all? The moon would've been enough for Jaebeom. He didn't particularly want to see anything around him anyway. He just wanted to disappear.

Jaebeom thought about sitting down but he knew he'd probably just want to stand back up a few moments later. He could never decide if the fog in his head made him feel worn-out or restless. It may very well have been both, he just couldn't ever tell. That was probably one of the most frustrating things that the fog brought; what Jaebeom could only describe as "a nightmarish whirlwind of feelings.”

"Come on, Jaebeom, get yourself together."

In the pit of his stomach, he felt the urge to cry. That happened a lot when the fog came. It was a light feeling, so Jaebeom could easily shake it away. Still, though, he hated the fact that he even  _ kind of _ felt like crying. He had no reason to feel that way, after all. At least that's what he thought.

A huge sigh escaped his lungs as he crouched down and hung his head hopelessly.

"I never expected to see someone else out here," a voice said from behind him.

He quickly stood up and spun around to face it, startled beyond belief. Jaebeom stared at the man in front of him. He didn't look threatening, which was good. His face was partially hidden by shadows, but he looked to be about Jaebeom's age.

"You don't talk or…" the mystery guy said, trailing off at the end.

Jaebeom shook his head. "Oh, uh, sorry. You startled me, I guess."

The guy shrugged. "Walking up behind someone when they're alone at 3 am has that effect. My bad."

Jaebeom scoffed. "It's all good."

The guy took a small, casual step forward and asked, "So, what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Jaebeom crossed his arms stubbornly. Really, he just didn't want to answer the question.

"I'm doing research." The stranger shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm writing a story and I want the setting to be in the middle of an empty field during the dark hours of the morning. I couldn't seem to get the description right, so I thought maybe experiencing it myself would help."

Jaebeom nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as well. He didn't answer, though, so the stranger continued talking.

"You just like being in fields?"

Jaebeom shook his head. He had been trying to make out the stranger's face and wasn't fully paying attention to things.

"Fog," he mumbled before realizing what he was saying.

"Fog?" the stranger asked. "There's no fog."

"Ah, nevermind." Jaebeom sighed. "It's not important."

Jaebeom turned around and sat on the grass, staring intently at the small patch of wooded area in front of him. He heard footsteps but didn't pay them any mind. Maybe he should've registered the fact that they were getting louder and not quieter, but he completely missed that detail. So when the stranger was suddenly at his side, taking a seat on the grass as well, Jaebeom was more startled than he probably should have been. The stranger, however, didn't seem to notice, or chose not to react. Jaebeom sighed and relaxed, fixing his gaze on his sneakers, if not for any reason other than him needing something to look at. The stranger stretched his legs out in front of himself and leaned back on his hands.

"So, what's your name?"

"Lim Jaebeom, yours?"

"Park Jinyoung."

"Nice to meet you, Park Jinyoung."

"And you, Lim Jaebeom."

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom said out loud.

  
He liked the way the name rolled off his tongue. Park Jinyoung. It was a good name. He kept repeating it over in his head.  _ Park Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung. _ Why was Jaebeom so comfortable around this complete stranger? He wasn't the type to relax easily around new people. He always made sure he looked relaxed, but all his actions were calculated until he really felt at home with someone. That usually took at least a few weeks for Jaebeom and yet he had known Jinyoung for all of five minutes and felt completely relaxed. What was different this time? What had Jinyoung done? Jaebeom retraced his time with Jinyoung in his mind but he couldn't think of any reason that Jinyoung made him feel so comfortable. For now, he would just have to settle on being content that he did. And he was okay with that. Usually, Jaebeom wanted there to be an answer to everything, but Jinyoung was an exception. Maybe there didn't need to be a reason. Maybe Jinyoung was just  _ good _ .


	2. 4 AM

The 24-hour convenience store was small and the aisles weren’t quite big enough for two people, but Jaebeom liked it that way. It was cozy and had a certain fluorescent-lighted aesthetic that made everything inside seem like art; especially Jinyoung. If he had had his phone, he would have taken a few pictures while Jinyoung wasn’t looking. Jaebeom liked to take photos. Everything around him always seemed to move too fast, so he would hold up a camera and take a picture whenever he saw fit. It made him feel like he could freeze time; save memories for later. Sometimes Jaebeom would just sit and smile at the photos he had taken. He would close his eyes and let his mind take him back to that day. There were polaroids strung all along the walls of his room, and he definitely wouldn't have minded if Jinyoung was in one of them. He looked over at his new acquaintance, who was looking for his food.

"You're staring," Jinyoung said, startling Jaebeom from his thoughts.

"Huh? Sorry!" He said awkwardly.

Jinyoung just chuckled and moved his attention back to the food. 

Once both boys had picked out their food, they walked up to the counter to pay. The cashier murmured some half-hearted greeting and began ringing in Jabeom’s items. Jaebeom reached into his pocket for his wallet, only to find that it wasn’t there.

“Oh shit,” he sighed.

“What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asked.

“I left my wallet at home.” Jaebeom turned to the cashier, who was looking at him with jaded eyes. “I’m sorry, I just won’t get anything. I can put it all back, too.” 

"It's fine, I'll pay for it."

Jaebeom turned to face Jinyoung. "No, you don't have to."

Jinyoung smiled softly. "I  _ want _ to, really."

Jaebeom sighed and nodded, recognizing that arguing wasn't worth it. "But I  _ will _ pay you back."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Jinyoung chuckled, moving to pay the cashier.

  
  


The two boys sat side by side on barstools at a counter in the shop. They had both opened their meals and had been eating silently. Jinyoung seemed content, but Jaebeom wanted some kind of conversation.

"You said you were writing a story, right?" he asked, "You an author or something?"

"That's the goal," Jinyoung replied, "But for now, I'm just a guy who likes to write."

Jaebeom nodded.

"What about you?" Jinyoung asked. "Any goals?"

"Ah, nothing big," Jaebeom replied, "I'm studying music at UCLA."

"Oh no way! I go to UCLA. I'm an English major."

Jaebeom couldn't help but smile at the way Jinyoung's eyes lit up at this new discovery. He didn't really understand why, but the fact that he was the one to make Jinyoung so happy made his stomach flutter.

"Really? Funny I've never seen you on campus."

"UCLA's a big school, man." Jinyoung shrugged. "But music, that's cool. What made you decide to study it?"

"Just something I've been interested in since I was a kid. Writing music is my happy place."

"You'll have to show me some of your music sometime." Jinyoung looked at Jaebeom.

"Only if you show me some of your writing."

Jinyoung considered this for a moment. Jaebeom watched as he drummed his fingers on the counter. He wondered how personal the stories Jinyoung wrote were. He imagined Jinyoung's writing was as much of an outlet for him as music was for Jaebeom.

"Fair enough," he finally said, "you've got yourself a deal. But don’t get your hopes up, I’m no Hemingway."

Jaebeom smiled. “No, you’re not. You’re Jinyoung, and I look forward to reading your stuff regardless.”

Maybe it was because he barely knew who Hemmingway was, but Jaebeom was pretty sure he'd choose Jinyoung over them any day.


	3. It Was Real

Jaebeom woke slowly, every inch of him wanted to go back to bed but the bright morning light streaming through the blinds forced him to sit up and rub his tired eyes. The clock across the room told him it was noon. Six hours of sleep, not bad considering he went to bed at 6 AM. His mind wandered to the night before. He walked all the way to that field alone but then-  _ holy shit! _

Jinyoung.

Had the night before actually happened? Jaebeom's mind raced. It felt so real and so right but what if it had just been some elaborate dream? It almost seemed too good to be true.  _ Jinyoung _ seemed too good to be true. Jaebeom reached over to his nightstand in search of his phone, but his hand landed on a small, flat, round object instead.

The bottle cap.

He picked it up and inspected the object.

_ It was real. _

Memories of his morning with Jinyoung came flooding back. It was almost  _ too _ perfect. He relived the memories in his mind.

  
  


_ Jaebeom stares at his cup. “I took a walk because I couldn’t sleep, now here I am drinking caffeine. Smart move on my part.” _

_ “Eh.” Jinyoung leans back in his chair and stretches. “The walk home will wear you down.” _

_ “Yeah, I am a good walk from home. Watch me pass out halfway there.” _

_ "There will be no passing out on my watch. I'll walk you home." The words fall from Jinyoung's lips so casually, but make Jaebeom hold his breath. _

Please do.

_ It's all his mind is telling him to say. He loves the idea of letting Jinyoung walk him home. He wants more time to talk with the mysterious boy he had met under such strange circumstances. But all good things must come to an end, and Jaebeom doesn't want to ask any more of Jinyoung this morning. _

_ "You don't have to," He says quietly. _

_ "I know, but I'd like to." Jinyoung shrugs, getting up from his chair to throw his trash away. _

_ Jaebeom follows suit, shoving his hands in his pockets when he's done. "As long as it's not a bother." _

_ "Nah," Jinyoung brushes him off, "it's no problem. Where do you live, anyways? Maybe it's on the way for me." _

_ "I live on the west side of UCLA, right on the outskirts of campus." _

_ "Oh, that's right near my apartment, though mine's closer to the middle of campus." _

_ Jaebeom nods, and the two head out, chatting about whatever they can as they go. By the time they walk up to the entrance to Jaebeom's apartment building, it's 5:30 AM, but Jaebeom can't be bothered to even think about sleeping. He just wants more time with Jinyoung. _

_ "This is my stop," He says. _

_ "Well, it was nice meeting you, Jaebeom." _

_ Jaebeom hesitates for just a little too long, and Jinyoung starts to turn away. _

_ "Hey, um, how about you give me your number," Jaebeom blurts, heart racing, "so I can pay you back for the food you bought me tonight." _

_ Jinyoung looks Jaebeom up and down, then smiles. _

_ "Sure," He says, "but only if it means 4 AM convenience store meal part 2. This was fun." _

_ "I'm down." Jaebeom replies casually, although he feels anything but. _

_ The two boys exchange numbers, and say their goodbyes. Jaebeom turns to head into his apartment, but Jinyoung calls after him. _

_ "Hey, Jaebeom!" _

_ "Hmm?" Jaebeom spins around on his heels. _

_ "Take this." Jinyoung tosses something small and light, which Jaebeom clumsily catches. "A souvenir from tonight. You better keep that safe for me." _

_ Jaebeom opens his palm to reveal the bottle cap from Jinyoung's drink. There's a simple blue flower on the top, and on the inside it says " _ Let life bloom."

_ Jaebeom smiles. "Thanks, I will." _

_ After waving goodbye to Jinyoung one last time, Jaebeom slips away and disappears into his apartment. _

  
  


Jaebeom shook his head.

_ It really happened. _

He opened his phone and went to Jinyoung's contact. He knew it was probably too soon to text him, but hell if he didn't want to. His finger lingered over the call button, but he ultimately decided against it. He wondered why Jinyoung made him feel the way he did. Nora, Jaebeom's cat, hopped up onto the bed and nuzzled into him. He sighed.

"What is it about that Jinyoung guy, huh, Nora?"

Nora just stared back at him with her big, blue eyes. Jaebeom smiled lovingly and gave her a pat on the head.

"It feels like I've known him for years…"

Jaebeom shook his head. He had to get ready for class, he didn't have time to try and answer all the questions he had about Jinyoung.

While he was walking to class, the heavy feeling in his chest began to come back. He wasn't surprised, he knew it would, he had just hoped to have a bit more time without it. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had been without the constant feeling of something pressing down on his chest—before Jinyoung came and took it away, that is—and although it was temporary, Jaebeom was infinitely grateful to Jinyoung for making him feel light for even just a little while. But as the pressure settled back in, Jaebeom's steps began to slow. He felt even worse than he usually did, but he was used to that. He knew that his highs came with lows twice as powerful. Jaebeom trudged his way down the sidewalk, wanting nothing but to turn around and go back home. He barely even registered that someone had put their arm around his shoulder. When he had fully processed, he jumped a little, turning to look at whoever had come up to him.

"Mark," he sighed.

"Don't act so excited to see me." Mark chuckled, sliding his arm off Jaebeom's shoulders.

Jaebeom shrugged, not even bothering to form a proper response. He wasn't looking, but he could tell Mark was eyeing him from the side. He knew exactly what was coming next.

"Lows?" Mark asked.

Lows. Mark had gotten in the habit of calling it that when he noticed Jaebeom wasn't acting quite right; when he moved a bit slower and spoke a bit quieter. When he acted less like a person and more like a robot, fuel tank nearly empty and gears struggling to turn.

"Lows." Jaebeom confirmed, relieved that Mark understood.

Relieved, but not surprised. Mark always understood. He was more of a listener and observer than a talker, which meant he was good at reading people, Jaebeom included. He always knew what to say and when to say it. He would have asked if Jaebeom was okay, or if he wanted any help with anything, but Mark knew that if Jaebeom wanted to talk about it, he would. So, he left it alone, opting to walk alongside his friend, hoping that his presence alone would bring him some sort of comfort.

Mark had been Jaebeom's friend for years now, the two had met freshman year of high school. Jaebeom didn't even remember exactly when they had met that year. There wasn't a specific memory of it in his head. He just didn't know Mark, and then he did. Mark said they met in English class, where they bonded over their mutual hatred for their mean old teacher, Mrs.Fink. But no matter how they met, the two quickly became close friends, serving as each other's confidantes. If something happened to Jaebeom, you could be sure that Mark would hear about it and vice versa.

Jaebeom quickly glanced over at Mark, who was too busy texting someone to notice. He felt a little weight lift off his chest knowing that Mark was there. Sometimes it's nice to have someone who knows you feel like shit, even if they don't quite know why. It takes a bit of weight off of things; makes breathing come a little easier. Jaebeom didn't exactly know why, but he knew that it did, and that was really all he cared about. There are some questions that just don't need to be answered. Questions like, "why is it so nice to have someone who knows?" or "why was Jaebeom so comfortable around Jinyoung?" Jaebeom shook his head, there he was thinking about Jinyoung again. Jinyoung, the man whose appearance caused Jaebeom's fog to dissipate, and whose disappearance caused it to come back three times as thick. It was like Jinyoung was a drug whose high was unbeatable, but comedown was hell. If that was the case, was Jinyoung even worth it? Maybe Jaebeom's hellish lows were trying to tell him that he never deserved highs in the first place. Maybe Jaebeom was meant to be right in the middle. No lows, no highs, just...existence. Painfully plain existence. No. No, Jaebeom didn't like the idea of that. He'd take highs and lows over plain existence any day.

  
  


Class, naturally, was a bore. It dragged on until finally the professor dismissed everyone. Mark stood up from his seat, stretching.

“So, am I coming over or do you need some alone time?” he asked.

Usually, after this class, Mark would walk with Jaebeom back to his apartment and the two would hang out for a little while, but Mark wasn’t sure Jaebeom was in the mood that day.

“I’d actually like the company, if you don’t mind,” Jaebeom mumbled back.

“‘Course,” Mark said, “whatever you need, man.”

Jaebeom gave his friend a sad smile. “Thank you.”

The two began walking back from class, Jaebeom staring at the ground, looking dejected. He never had to act around Mark. With pretty much everyone, he had to put on at least somewhat of a fake smile when he was feeling like this, but never with Mark. He liked that. 

Jaebeom toyed with the idea of telling Mark about the night before. There was something making him hold back, but he couldn’t quite put a name to what it was. Finally, as the two approached his apartment building, he decided to say something.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” he started, “like, I  _ really  _ couldn’t sleep. You know how usually you can’t sleep but you can at least bear to lie in bed or read a book or look through your phone? I couldn’t even do that. My apartment felt suffocating. I had to leave. I  _ had _ to. I didn’t care that it was 3 in the morning.”

“You left your apartment at 3 in the morning?” Mark asked, casually grabbing the keys to the apartment from Jaebeom and unlocking the door.

“Mhmm.” Jaebeom nodded.

“Where did you go?” Mark followed Jaebeom to the couch and sat down next to him.

“Nowhere at first. I just started walking. Only stopped when I realized I was somewhere far from home, no wallet, no phone, no anything. Ended up in a park field.”

“A field, huh? How’d that go for you?”

“Honestly? Pretty good. I met someone there.”

Mark gave Jaebeom a funny look. “At 3 in the morning? And they weren’t a serial killer?”

Jaebeom shook his head. He went on to tell Mark about his whole encounter with Jinyoung, Mark listening intently the whole time. Jaebeom told him every detail, except the one that was probably the most important, but Jaebeom didn't know that at the time. He neglected to describe how Jinyoung made him feel. Because he himself didn't understand why he made him feel that way, and that brought Jaebeom a discomfort he hadn't noticed until he had thought about saying it out loud.  _ Why _ ? The question suddenly nagged at Jaebeom. When he was with Jinyoung, he had simply not cared about why. But now? Now that he was away from Jinyoung and left to his own devices? He started to care, because Jaebeom had never felt that way about, well,  _ anyone _ before. And something in the pit of his stomach was telling him that he shouldn't have felt that way.

"Yo, you good?" Mark asked, pulling Jaebeom from his thoughts.

"Uh, yeah, sorry." He shook his head.

"So this Jinyoung guy, he seems like a good dude, yeah? I don't need to go beat him up, make sure he's good enough for you?" Mark joked.

"You make it sound like we're dating," Jaebeom scoffed, but his light smile faded even faster than it had appeared.

Nausea, however unwelcome, settled deep in his stomach and made him shift uncomfortably.  _ That _ was what had felt so wrong to Jaebeom; what he had just said. He didn't want to date Jinyoung, right? And the obvious date-like nature of their encounter felt wrong to him because of that, right? The sudden prospect that he and Jinyoung could be something more than friends had made him uncomfortable.  _ Right _ ? Jaebeom didn't like this feeling at all. He wasn't- no, he wasn't into guys. That was why the idea of it made him so uncomfortable, it had to be.

"It's not like that." Jaebeom said, voice low.

Mark looked at him, an expression Jaebeom couldn't quite pinpoint flashing across his face for just a moment. But it went as soon as it came, and it was like Mark had never even reacted to what Jaebeom had said.

"Never said it was." Mark shrugged, knowing better than to pry.

Jaebeom sighed, unsure of what to say. Why had he felt the need to confirm that it wasn't like that? Shouldn't it have been obvious? Jaebeom was straight, always had been. Mark knew that. So why had he said that? Light panic rose in his chest and his breaths became harder to take. He was spiraling and he didn't even know why.

"Hey, did you hear about the dude who was caught with like a fuck ton of cocaine on campus?" Mark asked.

Jaebeom let out the breath he had been holding, glad Mark had brought up a new topic. "No, how did he get caught?"

"Apparently the guy just had bricks of it in the trunk of his car, like, didn't even  _ try _ to hide it," Mark explained.

And then the two were off in conversation, Mark leading Jaebeom's thoughts farther away from Jinyoung with each new topic, Jaebeom gladly following his lead. Jinyoung was something he would have to figure out eventually, but not immediately. He could wait.


	4. The Text

Later that night, after Mark had gone home and Jaebeom had—for the most part—forgotten about Jinyoung, Jaebeom got a text. He figured it was Mark or one of his other friends, so he didn't bother to look right away. He just continued to work on the song he was writing. After about an hour, he wrapped up his music session and went to check his phone. As he scrolled through his notifications, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest as he saw the one name he was both dreading and dying to see.

**Park Jinyoung**

"Shit," Jaebeom mumbled.

Should he open it now? Should he wait? What did it say? Jaebeom's heart pounded, but why? That was a question that _did_ need to be answered, at least it was in his mind. He hated the things he was feeling. He wanted them gone but at the same time he knew Jinyoung was the source of them. And Jaebeom wanted nothing less than for Jinyoung to be gone. He groaned and threw his phone on his bed, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"It shouldn't be this hard. It's never been this hard." Jaebeom flopped down on his bed. "Ugh, just- just do it. Rip the bandaid off, right?"

He picked his phone up and turned it on. His finger hovered over the notification for a while. Jaebeom shook his head, as if to rid himself of whatever emotion was holding him back.

He scoffed. Like it was actually possible to just shake emotions away. He thought about how nice that would be, though. A little shake and all the bad things in your head would just clatter to the ground at your feet. Jaebeom imagined picking them up and throwing them in the trash—no, even better: _burning them_. Gone forever as though they had never been there in the first place. Reduced to nothing but a pile of ash. Yeah, that'd be nice.

"Focus!" He huffed. "Alright, alright, I'm opening it."

With one last deep breath, Jaebeom clicked on the notification.

**Park Jinyoung**

**Jinyoung-** Hey Jaebeom

_Hey Jaebeom_ ? That's it? He had spent all this time getting himself worked up over _that_? Jaebeom wondered what the hell was wrong with him. So dramatic over basically nothing. What had he even thought Jinyoung might have said? Nothing. Thinking back, he didn't even try to imagine what Jinyoung had sent. He had just panicked without any real reason.

As he went to type his reply, Jaebeom noticed that his hands were shaking.

_So, so dramatic,_ he thought to himself.

**Jaebeom-** hey jinyoung

It only took a few minutes for Jinyoung to reply, but it felt like forever to Jaebeom.

**Jinyoung-** Ah, you're an "auto-caps off" type of guy, huh?

**Jaebeom-** haha yeah, guess i am

 **Jaebeom-** i don't even remember when i turned it off tbh

**Jinyoung-** I never could get with that trend

 **Jinyoung-** Probably because the writer in me is a stickler for grammar

 **Jinyoung-** I appreciate the aesthetic though

**Jaebeom-** fair enough

 **Jaebeom-** nothing wrong with being grammatically correct

**Jinyoung-** You're so right omg

Jaebeom waited for Jinyoung to say something else. It was him who started the conversation, after all, he had to have had a reason to say hi. But after a few minutes of nothing, Jaebeom got anxious and a little bored, and decided to continue the conversation himself.

**Jaebeom-** so what's up?

**Jinyoung-** Honestly? Just checking to see if you're real.

 **Jinyoung-** Last night kind of felt like a dream

 **Jinyoung-** Is that weird?

**Jaebeom-** no, actually, i get what you mean

 **Jaebeom-** like, it was almost too good to be true

Jaebeom thought about what he had just sent, and felt panic bubble up in his chest. What if Jinyoung took what he had said the wrong way? God, he probably sounded so dumb. He quickly and shakily typed out some bullshit clarification and pressed send, typos and all.

**Jaebeom-** i meanlike going out ay 3 am and meeting someone who's NOT a serial killer is like kind of a miracke, right?

Jaebeom cringed once he read his message back. What the hell was he so worked up about? Why had he needed to clarify? Why had he said it was too good to be true in the first place? It didn't make sense. Nothing made sense.

**Jinyoung-** YEAH I totally get that omg

 **Jinyoung-** Sometimes I feel so stupid wandering the city alone so late at night

 **Jinyoung-** Like that's exactly what people say NOT to do, because there are some shady people out during those hours

Jaebeom let out a long, shaky breath, relieved that Jinyoung didn't seem phased by what he had said.

**Jaebeom-** yeah, thanks for not being a serial killer, i appreciate it man

Jaebeom had hesitated before sending the message, ultimately opting to add "man" to the end. It felt like a safer choice to him, for whatever reason.

**Jinyoung-** Oh, any time! Not being a serial killer is actually a talent of mine 😁

**Jaebeom-** NO WAY, mine too!!

**Jinyoung-** PLEASEEE we're a not-serial-killer power duo

**Jaebeom-** i love that for us

Jaebeom laughed out loud, his anxiety beginning to fade away as he remembered how easy Jinyoung was to talk to. All of the bad feelings from that day that he didn't understand began to fade out. In turn, all of the good feelings from the night before—that he still didn't understand, but were much preferred over the bad ones—came to take their place. Soon, he was enveloped in Jinyoung's words. Jaebeom imagined Jinyoung smiling at the other end of the line, his eyes crinkling in the way that they did when he smiled; _really_ smiled. With every "haha" he could almost hear Jinyoung's laugh, and with every new text Jaebeom's heart seemed to grow. He was back to not caring why he felt this way, because the only thing that mattered to him was that it felt _good._

Feeling good was something life gave sparingly to Jaebeom, so he held onto it for dear life when it came. He would worry about why later.

"Why." That stupid nagging word that wouldn't leave Jaebeom alone. He liked how Jinyoung seemed to ward it off. "Why" was scared of Jinyoung; "why" didn't matter when it came to him. And that made Jinyoung all the more magical to Jaebeom.


	5. The Peace After the Panic

Jaebeom loved UCLA. He really did. He loved the feeling he got walking around campus; the pride he felt knowing that he got into such a good school. But for the past few months, the wonders of UCLA had been fading. His motivation was nowhere to be seen, and the feeling of adoration and pride that used to set in his stomach when he thought of school was slowly being replaced with a sense of dread.

This slow change in things was taking a larger toll on Jaebeom than he would've liked to admit, especially since most of his classes were music-related. Music was what he loved. It was the one thing that never failed to make him feel better; the one way he could always vent his emotions. But lately music had been losing its wonder too. Sometimes he'd sit and stare at his equipment, getting nothing done, until he finally got frustrated and gave up. That hadn't used to happen to Jaebeom, and it scared him to no end that it suddenly did. What would Jaebeom do without music? Music was everything to him. He was losing the one thing that always brought him happiness no matter what.

It felt like everything was slipping out of his reach. He used to  _ enjoy _ things. But now? Now he just kind of went through life; existing until his brain decided to question whether even that was true. Jaebeom was starting to think he wasn't a real person. Real people enjoyed things, real people had the motivation to go to school, real people felt like they existed. Jaebeom did none of those things.

Frustrated, Jaebeom pushed himself away from his desk, chair rolling back and colliding with his bed behind him. He had been trying to write an essay for his music history class to no avail. He sighed.

_ Useless _ , he thought,  _ can _ 't _ even write a goddamn essay anymore. _

His music history class started in 3 hours and he hadn't even written a full first paragraph for his essay. He had all these ideas swimming around in his head but he couldn't catch any of them to form them into proper thoughts. It was infuriating, having all the tools to write his essay but no idea how to use them. Jaebeom stood up, kicking his chair back to his desk, and crawled into bed. He had given up. The thought of finishing the essay made him physically uncomfortable, while the thought of just going to bed brought him a sort of peace he desperately needed. He would worry about not handing in his essay when class started.

  
  


Jaebeom woke up 4 hours later.

"Shit," he mumbled, looking at the clock by his bed and realizing he had missed his class entirely.

He slowly untangled himself from his blankets and stood up. Almost immediately, he had to sit back down on the edge of the bed. Every inch of him was exhausted. Something was terribly wrong with him. He almost never felt like this. Still, Jaebeom shrugged it off. Maybe he was getting sick, or maybe he was just having an off day.

Forcing himself up, he made his way over to his desk to check what assignments had been given for the class he missed. When he turned on his laptop, he was met with his email account that he had left open. Normally, this wouldn't have been an issue, but this time, something caught Jaebeom's eye. An email titled " **Academic Performance** " was highlighted at the top of the screen. It couldn't have been anything good, seeing as Jaebeom had barely been doing his work lately. He sat down, took a deep breath, and clicked on the email.

"Dear Jaebeom,

UCLA regrets to inform you that, due to your low cumulative Grade Point Average (GPA), you are being placed on academic probation."

That was all he could manage to read before tears blurred the world around him.

_ Academic probation. _

The words were like knives, cutting into Jaebeom from every direction. His whole world had just shattered. Academic probation?  _ Jaebeom? _ No, Jaebeom wasn't the type to be put on academic probation. He never had been before then, at least.

"Fuck," he choked out through sobs, "what the hell is happening? What went wrong?"

Jaebeom genuinely had no idea what was happening to him. Where was his motivation? Where was his drive? Where was  _ Jaebeom _ ? This wasn't him, at least not the one he knew. He had changed, very much for the worse. He felt like a shell of what he used to be. The old Jaebeom was bright, sharp, on top of things. The old Jaebeom got his work done on time. The old Jaebeom was bursting with potential; potential he had apparently taken for granted.

Jaebeom thought about how much he had lost within the past year, and how he had barely noticed he was losing it until it was gone. He didn't know how much longer he could do this; go through life like everything was okay. Would he tell anyone about being put on academic probation? Mark, maybe. But even the idea of telling Mark made his stomach churn. What would he think? Would he be disappointed? Or, worse, would he pity Jaebeom? Jaebeom hated pity worst of all. That soft yet condescending, "oh-you-poor-thing" kind of look people got in their eyes. Like they saw you as more of a sad story than an actual person.

He was all too familiar with that look. He grew up not knowing who his parents were, being cared for by his grandparents, so adults often pitied him for that. He never really understood why, though. His grandparents were wonderful. Sure, they'd never be his  _ actual _ parents, but they were a damn good fill-in. Jaebeom found himself fortunate to have lived such a good life, even though his parents were MIA.

Pity was something he had always loathed. It made him feel weak; exposed. He hated that. And so he struggled to decide whether he would tell anyone about his academic probation. If he decided not to tell anyone, would he be able to fix things on his own? Could he get his GPA up without anyone there to help him?

Jaebeom watched tears drip off his face and land on his hands in his lap. They burned as they ran down his skin; little reminders of everything that was wrong. He wanted to wipe them away but he knew that if he did, more would just take their place. He thought that maybe if he took a shower he'd be able to collect himself and stop the flow of tears. So, he pushed himself up and made his way to the bathroom.

Ultimately, Jaebeom decided to take a bath. He didn't take baths often, but the idea of being surrounded by warmth comforted him in such a vulnerable moment. A quick stand-in for the hug he so desperately needed. So, he ran the water, making it a bit hotter than it probably should have been, and got in when the tub was full. His whole body stung as he lowered himself into the hot water but he honestly couldn't have cared less. The pain faded after a few moments anyway.

After a long while of sitting and staring at the plain, white wall opposite him, Jaebeom took a deep breath and plunged his head under the water. Most of his legs were above water, and he wished his bathtub was bigger so he could have been completely submerged. He liked being underwater; liked the way it muffled everything. He could scream as loud as he wanted and nobody would hear it.

Jaebeom ignored how terrifying that was and instead focused on how serene the quiet was. He imagined all of his problems going off like alarms above the water, the sounds barely reaching him.

He thought of how people say that right before you drown, you relax completely. You stop struggling, stop choking and fearing for your life and you just...are. You exist in a sort of peacefulness found very rarely in life. Like the moment your head hits the pillow after an exhausting day. The peace after the panic. You've accepted your fate and so you welcome it; welcome the end. He imagined what that would be like. Was it just a false sense of security your brain makes up so the last moments of your life aren't so terrible? No, Jaebeom thought that peace was peace no matter what brought it about. There was peace brought about by war, for example. War brought pain and suffering and death. But when it was all over, and someone had won, there was peace. Not for everyone, of course. War would never bring true peace for those who had lost something to it. War would never truly leave those who had sacrificed. Jaebeom thought of his own struggles as a war. He thought of everything he had lost to them and came to the conclusion that his war would never truly leave him, even if he were to eventually win. Wars have sides, sure, but they really only matter to the people fighting it. The war itself doesn't give a damn if you're winning or losing; whether you have the advantage or not. War will bring tragedy to whoever it pleases. So no matter if Jaebeom was ahead, behind or even  _ past _ the war, he would always be haunted by the things destroyed in its wake.

Where was Jaebeom supposed to find peace, then? Was drowning really the only way?

Jaebeom wondered if it was worth it. The pain, the suffering, the end of a life. Was it all worth that moment of complete serenity? Peace was something Jaebeom desperately missed. So maybe if he just…

_ What the  _ hell _ are you doing? _

Jaebeom then became all too aware of his pounding heart and struggling lungs. How long had he been under the water? He sat up, gasping for air as his head broke the surface.

_ Did I just try to- no, I wouldn't have actually...right? _

His mind was going a hundred miles a minute; faster, even. Life was hard, sure, but he wanted to keep living it. He was sure of that.

_ He was. _


End file.
